


Haste

by Dawninlatin



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Multi, One Shot, Sexual Tension, Smut, also this fic will suck, sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22884868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawninlatin/pseuds/Dawninlatin
Summary: Feyre heard Cassian greet someone, and turned just in time to meet a pair of shockingly blue eyes.Rhys. Her breath caught, her heart thundering in her chest, and she found herself not being able to look away. He held her gaze, refusing to be the first to break eye contact. Feyre didn’t know if it was the lights, the music, the alcohol, the warm summer night, still young and full of possibilities, or the feeling of finally being free, but it was as if she was seeing him for the first time.-Feyre comes back home after quitting college and breaking up with her boyfriend. During a night out, she starts seeing her friend Rhys in a new light.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron & Azriel, Feyre Archeron & Cassian, Feyre Archeron & Morrigan, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Comments: 8
Kudos: 99





	Haste

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I did not believe I would ever post a fanfiction, but here it is!  
> English is not my first language, so please, bear with me.
> 
> Also, while this is not a songfic, I strongly recommend you to listen to Haste by RY X while reading this, since it is what inspired me to write in the first place. 
> 
> Peace & love <3

This was not how Feyre had pictured her night. Had she been the one to decide, it would consist of greasy pizza, a bottle of tequila and some crappy rom-com. Feyre had gotten as far as scrolling through Netflix in search for one, when her best friend Mor walked in the door of the apartment and declared that Feyre better get her ass of that couch, take a fucking shower and put on some decent clothing, because they were going out.

Feyre hadn’t felt like she was in the right position to protest; it _was_ Mor’s couch she’d been occupying for the past week after all. _Had it been a week already?_ she wondered. A week since Feyre had finally broken up with her asshole boyfriend _Tamlin_ and then jumped on a bus to California, because the only person in the world she wanted to be with then was Mor. She had felt the need to share this victory with the only person that could always make her feel better. Of course, the high had ended as soon as she stood on Mor’s doorstep, where she had taken one look at her best friend and turned into a sobbing mess. That was about how she had spent the following week as well. She didn’t want to cry over the bastard, but he had been part of her life for the past two years, and she _had_ loved him. Once. 

So instead of spending the night on Mor's couch, wallowing in self pity, Feyre now found herself standing in the middle of a dance club crowded with drunk, sweaty people, playing way too loud music - the blinking lights making her dizzy. She had borrowed one of Mor’s dresses - and though this was considered _modest_ in Mor’s eyes - she found herself constantly pulling at the black fabric, not comfortable with how much thigh it showed off. 

Feyre scanned the room, trying to find her friend, and as she was about to declare the task impossible, she eyed a red dress and a head of blond curls. Mor was elbowing her way through the crowd, drinks in hand, accompanied by two men Feyre recognized. The tall, muscular one with shoulder-length, dark hair and a cocky smirk was Cassian, and the slightly shorter one with a shy smile was Azriel. 

As they approached her, Cassian went in for a one-armed hug. «It’s good to see you Feyre.» He grinned at her, and she found herself grinning back despite her unhappy mood earlier. She really had missed these people.

«Hi Feyre, you look well!» Feyre looked up to see Azriel smiling at her, accompanied by an awkward wave. He was more of the quiet, observing type of guy, but that was exactly what Feyre liked so much about him. He was quiet, yes, but it was never awkward, only calm. 

«You as well, Azriel.» She smiled back at him, then turned towards Mor, who handed her a drink. 

«Don’t look so shy Feyre. You look amazing tonight!» Mor winked at her, then gestured to the rest of the club. «You should have seen all the guys eyeing you when we walked in. Actually…if you hadn’t been my best friend, and straight-» she made a disappointed face at that, which made their whole group laugh, including Feyre, «-I totally would have slept with you.» Feyre laughed even  more at that, but Mor was right. She felt _good_ tonight. Sexy, even. She felt something she hadn’t felt in a long way. She was _excited_ for what the night - the future - would bring.

«I might not wanna sleep with you, but I think that brunette at the bar wants to.» Feyre nodded her head towards the young woman ogling her friend.

«Hell yes!» Mor exclaimed. She put her arms around Feyre and Azriel’s shoulders. «Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna get laid!» 

«Cheers to that!» Cassian laughed, lifting his drink. As Feyre sipped hers, she felt light, almost giddy, with excitement and joy. At the same moment, she noticed someone was missing from their small gathering. _Rhys_ _._

She couldn’t fathom how she hadn’t noticed before. Mor’s annoying cousin was difficult to ignore whenever he was present. The prick always teased, always came with innuendo’s, or witty remarks. He had the biggest ego Feyre had ever encountered. Still, Feyre found herself to be missing Rhysand’s snarky comments and their never-ending banter. Before she had time to stop herself, she spoke the sentence: «Hey guys, where’s Rhys?» 

Cassian wiggled his eyebrows at her, but she chose to ignore him. «He’s coming later. Had to work overtime» Mor answered. Feyre nodded, before quickly switching the subject over to their plans for the rest of the summer.

-

As soon as they had some alcohol in their blood, Feyre and her small group of friends moved on to the dance floor. Feyre was jumping around, singing along to whatever song they were blasting, joking and laughing with Mor and Cassian, teasing Azriel for not wanting to join them. They looked like idiots, but they were _happy_ idiots. She could feel the heavy bass in her whole body, along with her beating heart. She was so, _so happy_ _._ Happier than all of last year combined. Hell, she hadn’t been this happy since high school, when she, Mor, Cassian, Azriel, even Rhys, had been together almost every day. Always laughing, joking. But that had been before Tamlin, and before she had been stupid enough to move halfway across the country for college. 

Feyre scolded herself for thinking about Tamlin again. The point of tonight was to forget him. To have fun. And she was having fun, and she was _happy_. So happy that at any moment she could grow wings and disappear into the night. She had no worries. No worries of the home she had left behind, or college, or her ex-boyfriend, or what tomorrow would bring. She was here, now, and she felt fucking amazing. 

Feyre heard Cassian greet someone, and turned just in time to meet a pair of shockingly blue eyes. _Rhys_ _._ Her breath caught, her heart thundering in her chest, and she found herself not being able to look away. He held her gaze, refusing to be the first to break eye contact. Feyre didn’t know if it was the lights, the music, the alcohol, the warm summer night, still young and full of possibilities, or the feeling of finally being free, but it was as if she was seeing him for the first time.

_Had he always been this handsome?_ she asked herself, taking in his lean, muscular form, his tight-fitting jeans, the white shirt opened _just_ enough to show off the tattoos swirling across his chest. She stared at his sharp jawline, his soft lips, his eyes, so blue they were practically glowing, his dark, messy hair. _Oh, how she wanted to run her fingers through his hair_ _._

A cough from Mor made Feyre tear her eyes away at last. _I must be drunker than I thought_ , she mused. This was _Rhys_ she was thinking about. The man who annoyed her to no end. The man who was known for his many hook-ups and one night stands and flirts and just- argh. 

«How nice of you to finally show up,» Cassian said as he threw an arm around Rhys’ shoulder and handed him a drink. Rhys made a comment that had Cassian roaring with laughter, but Feyre didn’t hear what it was, because Rhys was looking at her with such an intensity that it made her insides tingle. _Stop it_ _,_ she thought. _You had a boyfriend just a week ago_ _._

«Hey Feyre. It’s good to see you again.» Rhys smiled at her, but it wasn’t his usual cocky smirk. It almost looked a little sad. Feyre suddenly found the floor very interesting, not being able to keep herself from blushing or biting her lip. She could feel his eyes on her. Burning. Then Mor shouted _«Who wants shots?»,_ and the moment was over.

-

The night went on. They drank, they danced, they talked about college and hook-ups and high school. Feyre almost wanted to cry at the feeling of how familiar it all was. She had been afraid that her moving to Boston would change everything - and it had, for a little while - but she was back now, and everything was normal. Except for Rhys, maybe. Something had definitely changed between the two of them. 

Gone was the teasing and never-ending banter. In its place was something brand new. They hadn’t said anything to one another except for pleasantries for the entirety of the evening, but Feyre caught him staring at her constantly, with this sad, longing look in his eyes. And to be honest, she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off of him either.

Right now, they were all sitting at the bar, watching Cassian stick his tongue down the throat of some random blonde on the dance floor. Mor suddenly stood up, announcing she was gonna go try her luck with the woman she had been flirting with all night.

«Come on, Azriel. You’re gonna be my wingman.» His protest died on his lips as More pulled him after her. 

All there was left, was Feyre and Rhys. Not able to meet each others eyes.

But Feyre was feeling brave this night. It might have been the alcohol, or the still-lingering high of having broken up with the asshole that had made her life miserable for the past year. She muttered a quiet «fuck it», downed her drink, stood up, and looked her friend straight in the eyes. «Do you wanna dance?» 

Rhys’s face was lit up by a bright smile. «I thought you’d never ask, Feyre darling.» Her insides warmed at the familiar nickname, and she found herself smiling just as brightly. Rhys took her hand, leading her to the dance floor, where some old EDM shit was playing.

Feyre didn’t care about the bad music, or the bright lights, or the sweat coating her body. She was here with _Rhys_. His body was so close now, and she could smell his all-familiar scent of citrus and sea.

She lost track of how long they danced. None of them were any good at it, but they were laughing and having fun. Feyre felt 17 again, jumping around, sweaty and drunk, but _happy._ «God, I missed this!» she exclaimed, grinning at Rhys, just as the fast rhythms and heavy bass switched over to a slow ballad.

Hesitantly, Feyre glanced at Rhys, suddenly feeling shy and unsure. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question. She understood what he meant immediately, and nodded, biting her lip. Rhys stepped closer, and put his arms around her waist. She placed hers around his neck, swaying along with the music. 

She looked at the man in front of her. _Really_ looked at him this time. _How had she not noticed before, how strikingly beautiful he was?_ His sharp angles, kissable lips, silky hair, the blue eyes she could get lost in if she stared for too long. Said eyes were taking in her just as intensely at the moment. 

«You are so beautiful tonight, Feyre.» His voice was hoarse, laced with restraint. Feyre felt a longing, deep within herself. She wanted to tell him he was beautiful too, wanted to kiss him, wanted to cry, wanted to just leave, wanted to stay in his arms forever. She wanted to be _his_ _._ She did neither, couldn’t find the courage to do so.

Instead, she stepped closer, and pressed her forehead against his, feeling his strained breath against her lips. Everything around them disappeared. The world narrowing down to the two of them, together, forehead against forehead, in the midst of a warm night in June.

Then the song ended, and the moment was over. Feyre stepped back, but she continued to hold his gaze. Rhys looked towards the exit. «Come, I wanna show you something.» He grabbed her hand, and then he was leading her through the crowd. They walked past Mor, who muttered a _«fucking finally!»_ that made them both chuckle. 

Outside, they were surrounded by warm, summer air, a chill breeze running over their exposed skin. Rhys looked at Feyre with mischief in his eyes. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

«What exactly was it that you wanted to show me?» she asked, not being able to hide her curiosity.

«You’ll see, just trust me.» Rhys looked giddy with excitement. He was bouncing on his feet now. «Follow me, we don’t wanna miss it.» Then he started walking. Fast.

«Miss what?» Feyre shouted after him, but he didn’t answer. Rhys just kept on walking, and she struggled to keep up with him. «I have shorter legs than you, remember? And I’m currently in heals, which puts me at an unfair disadvantage.» He stopped a few steps ahead, an amused look on his face.

«We have to wait a few minutes now,» he announced, all serious. Feyre looked around where they were standing, a few blocks away from the club. The whole city was sleeping. The sight of the quiet, empty streets bewitching.

Then a bright, yellow bus stopped in front of them. Also empty. She followed Rhys onto it, confusion growing more and more. «The bus? Where exactly are we going?»

The puzzled look on Feyre's face made him chuckle. «I swear, the mystery will be worth it once we get there. Now, we could have walked, but then we would miss it.» He must have seen the question forming on her lips, because he raised a finger. «And no, I still won’t tell you what it is.» 

She rolled her eyes and muttered a quiet _«prick»_. The nickname made him laugh, and she laughed with him, because Feyre hadn’t called him that since high school. It had been way too long since they’d been together like this. Still, under all the joking and laughing, there was an unfamiliar tension that hadn’t been there before.

-

After only five minutes, Rhys announced that they had reached their destination. He stepped out onto the street, and led Feyre towards a beach. The sight in front of her was breathtaking. The dark waves crashing against the sand, the sky - the nearing dawn making it a deep pink - birds flying over their heads, and Rhys, who had taken off his shoes and started walking towards the ocean. Feyre followed him, slipping out of her heels. The moment she felt the familiar California sand under her toes again, she laughed with joy. A rich and warm sound she hadn’t made in forever. 

Rhys, who was standing in the water now, looked up at her, the same bright smile on his face. He waved at her to hurry up, and she walked the final steps to him. The sea was warm, and the salty smell of it was amazing. It was _home._ She looked towards the horizon, where the sun barely had begun to rise. Then she looked up at Rhys again.

«The sunrise. That’s what you wanted to show me.»Rhys only nodded, before looking ahead of them. Feyre took in the sight again, and she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time. She wanted, no, she _needed_ to paint. 

Her thoughts were disturbed by Rhys, who was now sitting in the sand, jeans cuffed up to his knees. «Come sit with me, Feyre.» He patted the spot next to him. 

Feyre stepped back and sat down, feeling the waves crash against her legs. She looked to Rhys, and said the only thing that could come to her mind with a playful smirk on her lips. «How did your dad take it when he found out his only son was gonna major in English, and not business?»

Rhys grimaced. «He was pissed at first, even threatened to write me out of his will, but he came around - eventually.» They chuckled at that, both knowing how angry Rhys’ father could get, but also how he always gave in when it came to his children. «How about you? How’s all the art stuff going?» Rhys asked, his eyebrows raised in question.

«Urgh,» Feyre cringed, «I dropped out in March, haven’t touched a paint brush since.» She should have been sad or ashamed when admitting that, but she felt good, knowing she had made the right choice. She had been miserable in Boston.

Rhys looked at her, concern lining his face. «That bad, huh?»

«What can I say? Boston sucked, and I would much rather be here, with you guys.» She grinned at him, and he grinned back.

«So you’re back for good now?» Feyre only nodded, turning back towards the rising sun.

The sight in front of her was hypnotizing. «I didn’t realize how much I’ve really missed home.» The words were out before she managed to think. Rhys only hummed quietly beside her. Seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Feyre turned towards him. His eyes were closed, a small smile on his lips. «What’s on your mind?» she wondered out loud. 

Rhys opened his eyes then, and looked at her. «A thought for thought?» he suggested. She smiled at the reminder of the little game they used to play when they were younger. «I can begin,» he continued.

He looked towards the horizon again, taking a deep breath. «I’m thinking that when I walked into the club tonight, I was so happy to see you, because you were so happy. You were dancing and laughing and I thought that finally we had gotten _our_ Feyre back. After you left for Boston, and after you met _him_ , it was as if you disappeared.» Feyre tried to swallow the lump in her throat. He sounded wounded, almost. _Did he really care about her that much?_

«You visited, of course, but it was like a stranger had replaced you. You were a shell of who you once used to be. You stopped laughing, stopped making inappropriate jokes, and I missed you. God, I missed you so much.» Feyre felt like she might cry at his words, but she didn’t. All she did was stare ahead, and take his hand. She squeezed it, encouraging him to continue. He squeezed back.

«As I said, when I saw you tonight, I was sure we had gotten the old Feyre back. Mor told me what had happened in Boston - why you were back - and I was sure that everything would return to normal between us.» He took a break, clearly anxious of saying what was next.

«But everything isn’t back to normal. Something has changed. I can feel it, and I think you can too.» He looked at her now, that intense longing once again in his eyes. She met his gaze, and suddenly felt brave enough to say:

«I can feel the change too, yes, but I think it’s a good change.» Then she leaned in, and kissed him.

Rhys went completely still at first, and Feyre was afraid that she had misunderstood their conversation. Then he seemed to realize what was happening. He put one arm around her waist, the other tangling in her hair, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. 

His lips tasted salty, she thought, but sweet at the same time. She could get drunk on him alone. Feyre was breathless, and dizzy, but she decided this was the best feeling in the world.

_She was kissing Rhys._

He pressed his tongue against her lips, and she opened up for him, moaning at the sensation. She put her hands in his hair, slightly pulling at it. The silky strands feeling soft in her fingers.

Kissing Rhys was everything, but at the same time it was not enough. She needed more. Needed to be closer, needed to feel more of him. She pulled away slightly, breathless, heart thundering, blood rushing in her ears. Rhys looked at her, just as breathless, a hungry gleam in his eyes. «How far is it to your place?» He only smirked in answer.

Rhys stood up, picking Feyre up with him. She laughed as he almost dropped her, then she wrapped her legs around his waist. He didn’t walk far before they reached a small house. Rhys put her down, pulled a pair of keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the door. 

Feyre marveled at the place as they stepped inside. It was small, but it was stunning. Large glass windows facing the ocean, green plants covering every available surface, and several over-filled bookshelves. She turned to look at Rhys, who had stopped in the doorway, staring at her taking in his place, surprise clearly written on her face. She took a step towards him. Then another. And another, until their mouths crashed together again. 

Rhys moved his lips over her jaw, down her throat, her neck. Feyre moaned, struggling to get his shirt off fast enough, both minds clouded with lust and the haste to be as close together as possible. Skin to skin. 

She finally managed to open the last button, pulling off the fabric. Feyre took in his muscled, tan chest and the many tattoos covering it. She leaned forward, and pressed her lips to the spot right above his heart. She could feel it hammering beneath his skin. She moved upwards, ghosting them over his collarbone, his neck, his throat, his jawline, then finally his lip. 

Rhys grabbed her face, kissing her with such an intensity it made her dizzy. She was about to start fumbling with his belt when Rhys pulled away. «Are you sure you want this?» he asked, all out of breath, voice cracking, and Feyre would have thought his consideration and worry to be cute, had she not been so desperate to press her naked body against his. So she only nodded, and stepped back to pull her dress over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

That seemed to be the end of Rhys' restraint. He took a step towards her, grabbed her under her thighs, and hoisted her up so she was sitting with her legs around his waist. Feyre moaned at the feeling of him pressing against her, hard and ready, and she felt a warm throbbing between her own legs. 

Feyre let out a breathy _«why the hell do you still have pants on?»_ that made Rhys chuckle. She felt the sound moving through his whole body. He walked across the room, laid her down on the bed and quickly got rid of his pants. Feyre almost drooled at the sight of his large cock. She reached out a hand and stroked him through the thin fabric of his boxers. Rhys groaned at the feeling, and leaned over her, placing his mouth on one of her nipples.

It felt exquisite. Rhys, his wandering hands, her body tingling with sensation, his hot mouth on her skin. She needed more, more, more. Feyre pulled his cock free, and he kicked of his underwear. One of his hands reached the band of her own panties, a finger dipping into her core, then slowly circling her clit. 

It was too much and not enough and she needed more. Rhys slid off her underwear, and all of a sudden there was nothing between them. «Do you have a condom?» Feyre didn’t know how she managed to form words at this point, but he reached behind her and grabbed one. Feyre took it and rolled it on him, while his mouth explored every inch of her breasts, and his hand slowly stroked the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

Feyre needed him inside her, now. She lined his cock up with her entrance, then she looked him in the eyes. He took her hint, slowly, oh so slowly, pushing himself in, not breaking eye contact.

Feyre moaned at the feeling of him filling her, widening her. He was thick and warm and it felt amazing. She pulled his mouth to hers, and he pressed his tongue inside her, filling her in two places. He pulled out slightly, then pushed in to the hilt this time. Rhys groaned at the sensation, his hand still drawing circles over her clit.

It felt so good, she was seeing stars. The wave inside her rising and rising with no end as Rhys picked up his pace, slamming to the hilt and hitting that magic spot every. damn. time. 

Words like _more_ or _faster_ or _deeper_ filled the warm air around them. Rhys buried his head between her shoulder and neck, moaning her name. Feyre felt her pussy clench around him, nearing that sweet, sweet edge. «Rhys, I need to…» 

He seemed to understand what she meant, because he went even faster, fingers pressing down against her clit, and _fuck_ it felt so good! His eyes met her eyes, his forehead pressed against her forehead, and she felt his words as a breath against her lips. «Come, Feyre.»

Those words pushed her over the edge immediately, wave crashing over her like nothing ever had before. It lasted a lifetime. That sweet, unending pleasure. She clenched around him again and again, until he started losing control, losing rhythm, and at last he came with her, groaning.

When it was over, the world around them went quiet. The sun was shining through the curtains, a new day beginning, Rhys collapsed on top of Feyre, stroking her disheveled hair away from her face. «That was…» she didn’t know how to end that sentence. She wanted to stay here with him forever. Just the two of them. Skin to skin.

Rhys looked at her, amusement coloring his face. «Intense?» he suggested. Feyre chuckled, tapping her fingers against his chest. He pulled out, turned on his back, taking her with him, so that she lay on his chest, ear placed right over his heart.

«I was gonna go with best sex of my life, but intense works too I guess.» He laughed at that. A warm, loud laughter that she could feel in her whole body. He kissed the top of her head, and pulled a blanked over them.

As Feyre lay there, feeling Rhys draw slow circles on her back, listening to the waves, letting the steady beat of his heart and the sound of his even breaths lull her to sleep, she knew that nothing would ever be the same after this night. She felt almost electric with excitement over what the rest of the summer would bring. One thing she was sure of, Rhys would be part of it.


End file.
